


Raising Dragons

by Blue_Sparkle



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Other, au nobody died
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working on repairing Erebor Bilbo finds some dragon eggs, which soon hatch. Naturaly he decides to keep them. Much to Thorin's horror (but what can he really do about it anyway?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere I've seen a prompt which asked for Bilbo to 'do a Daenerys' and raise Smaug babies. It couldn't get the idea out of my head, and now i decided to finally write it. I know I should be writing the other fic, but I just didn't feel like serious things and angst....
> 
> Also there is art for this verse here: http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/tagged/raising-dragons

Somehow the dwarves had expected that they would just need to reclaim Erebor by killing the dragon and open the gates. Afterwards the kingdom Under the Mountain would once again be the home to all that had been exiled from it so many years ago, and a new home to all the children who had been born outside of it. Its mines would be working again, and the workshops would be filled with masters of any kind, the merchants would initiate trade with the nearby cities of Men, making the realm of the dwarves prosper once again.

How any of them could have been that stupid was beyond Bilbo, and he kept cursing the lack of foresight the members of his company had had. He had the excuse of neither knowing how massive Erebor was and how big the damage might be in the first place, but he had expected that at least the dwarves had put some thought into the actual restoration.

Bilbo had realized that they hadn’t done that after the dreadful battle, when everyone’s wounds had finally been tended to and Thorin had earned himself many punches and clips round the ear (the latter from Balin for being a baby about just a few flesh wounds and stabs, and the, probably unfelt, punches from Bilbo for scaring him by suddenly waking up while the hobbit was still weeping over what he had believed to be the king’s deathbed. He was yet to forgive him for that particular scare).

After Thorin had finally decided to roll out of the bed and limp towards the warriors who had been waiting outside the tent, he offered them to stay in Erebor as his subjects, and bring their families too. The warriors had sat around him, listening with a mildly bored expression while cleaning their axes and swords. The battle had made them tired, and the desolation around them didn’t make them exited about the prospect of moving.

Dáin, who still remembered visiting his cousins in Erebor when he was younger, decided to take a look at the inside of the mountain. He marched through the gates, followed by the company’s members who could walk without pain, took a good look at the halls, then walked back out and informed Thorin that no sane Dwarrowdam with a more or less secure home would want to move to such a place, and only few Dwarves either. Upon seeing his cousin’s crestfallen face, Dáin muttered something about sending some stonemasons and craftsmen from the Iron Hills to help restore the place. And then, maybe in a year or two, they’d talk again.

Which meant that the Dwarves of the company and one reluctant Bilbo Baggins were now stuck trying to clean the place up, rebuild as many rooms as they could without the proper tools and dispose of anything that reminded of the presence of a dragon. The Hobbit somehow ended up doing the latter. Of course.

None of the Dwarves had wanted to go towards the furthest chambers of the treasury, where there was less gold, but more dust, dirt and stench of ash and dragon, so they had come up with excuses why a Hobbit would be so much better at cleaning up there.

Bilbo had complained at first, but as Thorin caught on about what exactly his Hobbit was grumbling, he had said that he could simply not do it and go help Ori restore the upper levels. The future consort of the king should not need to do such degrading work as bringing out dragon remains after all. Thorin had said that more like a question than a statement. The Dwarf wasn’t sure whether their relationship was quite back to normal yet, so he kept being especially considerate and asking about Bilbo’s mood all the time.

Bilbo didn’t want to go to the corner of the treasury and be surrounded by Smaug’s smell for hours, but he also had not forgiven Thorin’s behaviour completely. So he had looked the king straight in the eye, smiled and said “Then it’s good that no king’s consort is anywhere near dragon’s to do these tasks by mistake,” then took a big bucket of water and left.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

At first the expression on Thorin’s face had been more than worth the smell of scorched stone and wood that clung to every surface, then Bilbo had regretted it deeply. He staggered around the dark wing that was at the furthest end of the treasury, wondering just why Smaug had spent so much time in a relatively empty and narrow corner. It didn’t seem wide enough to have room for more than his head anyway.

The walls were encrusted in ash and there were some big pieces of rubble that looked as if they had been dragged over to block the way to the back. Why a dragon would want to do that was beyond Bilbo, so he just squared his shoulders and carefully stepped over the stones to see how far back the hall went.

It really wasn’t much, the hall was barely more than a storeroom compared to the vast caverns behind it, so Bilbo was fairly confident that it wouldn’t take too much effort to clean off the burn marks and air out the smell. He bent down to place the bucket on the floor and start cleaning the place, when something colourful among the blacked stones caught his eye.

The Hobbit got down on all fours and crawled closer curiously. Something was stuck beneath all of the rubble, but only a little dragging, pushing and pulling uncovered three curiously formed stones. Bilbo sat down and pulled them into his lap, wiping the ash and dust from them with his sleeve.

The stones were cool to the touch, oval in shape and their surface was slightly rough under his fingertips. They weren’t much bigger than a loaf of bread and once the worst of the dirt was gone, Bilbo could see that one of it was sand-coloured, the other two of a pale red and a dark purple respectively. They didn’t look precious or even that pretty, but somehow Bilbo liked the way they looked anyway. Their surface felt a bit like burnt clay and the patterns on them reminded him of some flowerpots his mother used to own.

So Bilbo used all of the water in the bucket and the last unsoiled spots of his sleeves to wash the stones until they gleamed neat and clean. It was hard to climb back towards the main hall with his arms full of the stones, but he managed.

The Dwarves who were still in the treasury gave him a questioning look but didn’t ask. Thorin however hurried over immediately and stopped in his tracks, staring at Bilbo in disbelieve.

“What happened to you?” he asked and looked him over. Bilbo looked down and noted that he was completely covered in ash and dirt, which must really look strange on him, especially as he was still holding onto the stones.

“Nothing, I just went to clean up over there. And I came to the conclusion that I’ll need more buckets of water. And new clothes afterwards,” he shrugged. The Bilbo Baggins from a year ago would have cried over the state of his clothes, but right now Bilbo knew that it could be worse. At least he knew that a bath was awaiting him at the end of the day.

“And what are those?” Thorin pointed at the stones and Bilbo instinctively pulled them closer to his chest.

“I found them and I would very much like to keep them,” he replied and squinted up at the Dwarf with a challenging glare.

“But why would you want _those_? Look around; you can pick anything you find in the treasury. Those stones aren’t even valuable.” Thorin leaned closer to examine them, but Bilbo turned subtly to shield them form his view.

“I just want these,” he said, and as Thorin frowned disapprovingly he quickly added: “Shouldn’t the consort of the King be able to chose whatever he likes, even if it is not as valuable as possible?”

At that Thorin’s expression visibly lit up and he gave Bilbo one of those smiles that made the Hobbit want to give in and just forgive the Dwarf once and for all.

“Of course, if you like them so. But I could make you a precious chest to keep them in, if you permit it? I have just the perfect design in mind!”

Bilbo smiled sweetly and nodded, then walked past the king and went to put the stones into his bag, which he kept in one of the habitable rooms. He cradled them and wondered just why he felt so protective of the objects that slowly started to warm up under his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin is jealous of stones and there is an addition to the family

Over the following days, Bilbo kept spending more and more time taking care of the stones he had found in the corridor. He polished them over and over until even the tiniest specks of dust had been removed from the thin rills on their surface. He washed them with a soft cloth until their surface gleamed in the light of the candles and lamps of their room. He lovingly rearranged them every morning in between breakfasts and in the evenings before going to bed, and randomly throughout they day.

The Hobbit was often found sitting by the table, holding the stones close to a chandelier, examining the pretty patterns on them or just cradling and weighting them in his hands. He wouldn’t give them away much, not that his friends wanted to do more than look at the plain and inconspicuous stones anyway. But Bilbo was slow to hand them over to the few who were curious enough to look at the strange stones.

That possessive streak and the love for precious stones (however plain _these_ stones were) were an entirely Dwarvish streak and under normal circumstances Thorin would have been bursting with pride for his little intended picking up the customs and ways of the people he would soon rule over.

But as Bilbo kept ignoring him in favour of polishing the stones yet again or not going to join him in bed, it did become rather annoying. Thorin would glare at the stones angrily, as if the objects would stop being so interesting to his Hobbit if he just intimidated them enough. He would ask Bilbo to put them away already, on a shelf out of sight instead of the table across of the bed, where Bilbo would stare at them before falling asleep, rather than respond to Thorin tugging at his nightgown sulkily.

And when Thorin accused him of not caring about anything besides the stones, and how it was just _wrong_ to value objects higher than your lover, Bilbo just gave him a dry look until Thorin realized what he had just said. After that, Thorin retreated to the library to sulk and be so gloomy that it made Ori hide behind some shelves for the rest of the day. He did let the matter rest then.

And then, when it became evident that Bilbo would not give up on his mother-henning of the stones, Thorin decided that the best course of action would be to just accept the ugly things’ presence in their chambers and to make the best of the situation.

He spent a few of his free afternoons in the smithy instead of trying to get his future husband’s attention, and crafted a beautiful golden box with delicate patterns of gems inlaid in it. He presented the box to Bilbo as soon as he was done, explaining that it was common to keep treasures in equally precious containers (omitting the fact that he just wanted something actually precious to belong to Bilbo and to hide the ugly things from sight at the same time). The Hobbit was excited at that, immediately setting the stones into their new box and thanking Thorin sincerely.

More days passed and Bilbo would spend less time polishing the stones (which was good as they would have been ground to dust sooner or later at the thorough wiping) and instead just setting up candles and lamps around the box, to made the gems, gold and the stones themselves shine prettily. Even Thorin had to admit that that sight was nice.

Not that Bilbo would stop being peculiar. Thorin soon realized that he’d only get any attention if Bilbo had closed the lid of the box before going to bed. And when Thorin protested that his demeanour was simply ridiculous, the Hobbit would give him a glare that meant that the King might be spending the night sleeping on the uncomfortable throne if he didn’t shut up now (an experience that Thorin didn’t wish to ever repeat again).

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

The restoration of Erebor was proceeding very slowly but it did become noticeably more habitable. Ori and Balin had started restoring the library on their own, and they were very firm about not letting anyone touch the books and ancient scrolls or even enter the library before the vast rooms weren’t ‘the right climate’ for the old parchment (translated that meant that they just wanted to read them all in peace, Thorin supposed). Bilbo was pouting about it until the day Dori mentioned the gardens, which were said to exist within the mountain. The Hobbit was thrilled at the prospect of being able to have a little garden just like the one he left behind in the Shire.

He made Thorin help him find the secluded area that was designed to let enough sunlight and wind into the halls with fertile soil. When he had been a child they seemed quite useless to Thorin, as you couldn’t grow enough food to actually live of it, and flowers had seemed silly. But seeing Bilbo getting all excited about the many things he’d be able to grow was endearing enough, and he supposed that he would even like the flowers, as long as it was the Hobbit who grew them.

So it happened that Bilbo spend most of his free time preparing the soil for the next spring, instead of polishing his stones. It had the disadvantage of Bilbo being away from Thorin more, but at least he was willing to pay more attention to the Dwarf while picking weeds (even if that talking consisted of him trying to remember all the things he knew about plant growing).

One of the disadvantages was that Thorin was less distracted by his lover walking around their chambers as he worked on any official documents (an advantage as Balin insisted sternly). He envied Bilbo doing physical work in the gardens as he read the texts and letters he had received from Bard, but there was nothing to do about it.

Thorin had no other choice but sit in his study to try and focus on his duties in order to be done with them as quickly as possible. That was why he didn’t hear the muffled clang of metal falling over in the adjoining bedchamber, and why he didn’t register the soft tapping that started a few hours later.

He was so focused on brooding over the papers that he barely noticed Bilbo returning, exhausted from his work and feet and trousers still a bit dirty from kneeling on the earth. The Hobbit walked over to the Dwarf and pressed a quick kiss to his temple before walking towards the bedchamber to change his clothes.

The following scream was enough to startle Thorin out of his concentration and before he really realised what he was doing, he had grabbed Orcrist from where it was lying by his table and dashed over to the bedchamber, to protect Bilbo from whatever had made him shout Had someone sneaked in? An assassin? Did the wall or some furniture break down and hurt the Hobbit?

The sight he was greeted with was rather anticlimactic. One of the chandeliers had fallen over and into the golden box, dripping wax all over the gems and the stones inside. Bilbo was trying to fish the heated things out of their container, hands wrapped in a handkerchief in order to protect his skin from burns.

He whined as he realized that the stones had cracked from the heat and Thorin fought the urge to roll his eyes. A material that was damaged from just being too close to a candle flame couldn’t be worth much at all. But he wasn’t stupid enough to point _that_ out, as Bilbo would certainly get even more upset at that (and make him sleep on the throne again).

Thorin sighed and was about to put Orcrist away to comfort the Hobbit, but then a loud cracking noise startled them both. The stones seemed to tremble and their cracks spread faster.

“What is this–” Thorin demanded to know, but Bilbo shushed him and grabbed the stone with the biggest damage.

A piece broke out of it, landing on the table. The same was happening to the other two stones, a strange tapping coming from each as more and more shards dropped. They did not look like pieces of a broken gem, but rather than the shell of something hollow. Tiny whining noises started coming out of the red stone, and Thorin realized that something was about to _crawl out of it_.

He raised his weapon defensively and called out: “Bilbo, _please_ , step aside we don’t know what–“

“Awww!”

Bilbo interrupted the warning with a strange cooing sound which Thorin had heard him make last when he had seen puppies at Beorn’s house. What creature could crawl out of a stone and make the Hobbit react this way?

Thorin leaned closer to see himself, and the sight made him reel back in shock and raise Orcrist’s pointy end towards the table. Bilbo picked the thing up and turned around smiling brightly.

“Oh, Thorin _look_!” he sighed, looking way too pleased with himself. “It’s a baby!”

The ‘baby’ yawned and writhed its lizard-like body in Bilbo’s hands, showing a row of tiny teeth already. The candle light made the deep red scales flash as the creature stretched translucent wings and tried to climb up the Hobbit’s shirt.

Thorin could feel his hands shake on Orcrists’s handle as he gaped at the thing.

“I- is that a–“

“A little dragon baby! Oh Thorin! I have little dragon babies to take care of now!”

The combination of the red dragon, the clacking sounds from the remaining two stones and Bilbo’s charming smile were enough to make the mighty dwarf King have to sit down on the bed to keep himself from falling over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations it's a... Dragon
> 
> I don't even know what I'm doing with this story, it has become my 'I want to write but I have writersblock and I'm also in need if cheering myself up..' Story... I hope you enjoy this verse as much as I do, and if there's anything you'd like to see in future chapters just ask ^^  
> Again, thanks to Inja for helping me as a beta and with talking me through the block times <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gandalf is not helpful at all

Thorin had heard of and lived through enough strange situations; some that were simply ridiculous, some that might happen to others but not to him, and some that he would avoid at all costs because they were dangerous enough that even he would dread them, or simply not something that a respectable Dwarf would do.

And yet here he was, with an entirely unhelpful wizard doing what was _definitely_ chuckling into his beard – even if he tried to disguise it as a cough – his loyal companions gathered around the room, attempting to keep away from the centre of the room as far as possible and be as close as they could to protect him, being equally unhelpful in the process. And last and most important, his beautiful and absurd Hobbit fiancé, who was holding three tiny wriggling dragons in his lap. Dragons. Which had hatched from something everyone had mistaken for dull stones from Erebor’s treasury.

Thorin might have cried a little.

“Now, Bilbo, this is a most unusual tale, I don’t think that I have ever heard anything like it,” Gandalf was just saying as Thorin started listening again. The shock and absurdity of the situation had made him tune out while Bilbo was retelling how exactly the stones had turned out to be eggs yet again.

Bilbo smiled and brushed his hands over one of the dragons, who was trying to claw up his shirt. “Not any more unusual that anything I have done before, isn’t it? Not more than a Hobbit walking out of his comfortable home, slaying goblins and spiders and then helping reclaim a mountain from…” At that he glanced down at the creatures in his lap and back at Gandalf, forming the words ‘a dragon’ with his mouth.

The way Bilbo acted around the creatures was terribly disconcerting; he was petting them as if they were fluffy little animals like bunnies, and talked to them like one would to a toddler. Thorin could not understand how anyone might feel like doing that with these worms, any reaction but to try and run away or get rid of them was more than just a little wrong. And to his horror Thorin started to notice how certain members of his the company had started edging closer to Bilbo, from where everyone was nearly pressed against the walls, trying to take a curious look.

The only reason why Thorin had yet not slain these dragons himself was because they had wrapped themselves around Bilbo, and he held them close in turn. Thorin could not swing Orcrist in their direction without cutting through his beloved, and Bilbo refused to let go of them. The only thing left to do was summon everyone and Gandalf to discuss the situation – while trying not to fall over because of the shock.

For all that the wizard was more bothersome than actually helpful, he might explain why keeping the dragons was a bad idea, better than Thorin had managed so far. He was the best diplomat of them all, even being able to convince elves of something and he had known the Hobbit for the longest.

“Quite right, my dear Bilbo. But what do you want to do with these dragons now? So far all they had done was on their own accord, and now they have become attached to you, so you must decide,” Gandalf said.

Bilbo looked down at the dragons, brushing his hand over their heads and wings gingerly. He seemed to consider something, if the way he was biting his lips was any indication.

“How big would they get? And do you think that they will be firedrakes?” he asked absently, and it sounded a little curious, but not as if Bilbo really cared about the answer.

“These are the spawn of Smaug! They will grow bigger than him, and then they will fly out to destroy unsuspecting kingdoms with their fire. You have seen the desolation left behind by their sire, imagine what three of these will do!” Thorin hissed out. “We should get rid of them _now_ and spare the world such danger!”

Bilbo gave him a hard glare that nearly made Thorin wince back and look to his feet guiltily by instinct, but he managed to return the glare. Beside them Gandalf shook his head.

“The thing about dragons…” he said and Thorin sat a little straighter. The wizard would set Bilbo right, and this way win the argument for Thorin without the Dwarf having to face the entire wrath of the Hobbit on his own. Bilbo would certainly not be too cross with the wizard and in turn with Thorin.

“There are many different kinds of dragons, not all spew fire, and not all can fly or talk. I cannot tell with ones so young, but I am certain that they are not Smaug’s children. My guess is that he has brought the eggs of another with him from the North, or perhaps Thror already had them in his treasury for some reason,” Gandalf started to explain and everyone was watching him walking closer to Bilbo to take a better look. Bilbo loosened his hold on the dragons and they all turned their head to watch the tall man approaching, shrinking back a little.

“They might just reach the size of a small pony, or grow to be as big as Smaug had been, and I don’t know whether they will breath fire. Only time will tell.”

Bilbo frowned and actually hugged the dragons; as much as the sight made Thorin shiver, the sad expression on his face made the King want to hold him comfortingly.

“So what am I to do?”

Gandalf looked down and stroked over his beard thoughtfully. He looked at the dragons, and the dragons stared back, the Dwarves all edged closer a little, without taking their eyes of the wizard, and even Thorin leaned forwards expectantly.

Finally Gandalf tucked away his pipe in some pocket on the inside of his coat and coughed a little.

“As I see it the solution to the problem is a very simple one–“

_There he goes, now he will explain to Bilbo just the same thing I have done before, and I will be kind enough to mention being right about this too often._

“The dragons have already made themselves familiar with you, which means that they will attempt to stay here; it really only leaves you with one choice.”

_I do feel_ a little _sorry for Bilbo; he has a kind heart and now that he has grown fond of the dragons he will have a harder time getting rid of them._

_But it must be done._

“You will just have to keep them and raise them yourself, nobody else will be able to do so, as they have already imprinted on you. You would do very well in raising them, Hobbits do have a natural talent with these sort of things.”

_What._

“What?!” The call came from all corners of the room, in various degrees of disbelief and terror as the Dwarves stared at the wizard in their midst as if he had lost his mind – which, frankly, he must have to suggest such a thing.

“You cannot be serious old man!” cried Thorin as he jumped to his feet, but he was ignored.

Bilbo’s face lit up in a smile and he sighed in relief. “That’s good to hear! Did you hear that my dear little children? You can stay with me and all will be very fine indeed,” he cooed at the dragons but Thorin interrupted his joy.

“Are you both quite mad?! These dragons will grow, they will breathe fire, they will destroy Erebor all over again!”

“Oh nonsense. They will be well-behaved and good if we leave them with Bilbo.” Gandalf shook his head and placed a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “They might even be better behaved than some others in this room when Bilbo is done with them.”

Thorin’s fingers clenched in frustration and he stood as tall as he could; not that the blasted wizard had ever been impressed by anyone doing that.

“Dragons are evil creatures, you can’t fight their nature even with the best upbringing in all of Middle-Earth!”

Bilbo gave him a nasty look again but Gandalf only tilted his head to the side.

“There are some aspects of every dragon’s nature that might be considered evil. But if these dragons grow up here, they will learn that they mustn’t kill and destroy, and no dark power will ever take hold of them. They will most likely always have a love for all that glitters and is precious, and they might want to hoard their own treasures. A vice that they share with you Dwarves, and yet you manage to be ‘good’ while collecting your gold.”

So rebuked Thorin could not find a reply fast enough, and after Gandalf had watched him with raised eyebrows for a while, he turned back to Bilbo.

“It is decided then. I have the utmost confidence in your ability to be a good guardian for the little ones, and you will figure out how to deal with them perfectly. Now let us walk over to the library and go look for some information on how to go about this.”

Gandalf led Bilbo out towards the doors, guiding him in a way that Bilbo could still hold the scurrying dragons in his arms.

“I will help you find some basic information on how to provide for a dragon, although I am sure that they will not be that different from a child, but then I must go on to deal with my own business.”

They left the room and their voices soon became quieter. Thorin let himself fall back on the chair, staring on the floor in a dazed stupor.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder.

“’m really sorry my friend,” said Dwalin and the others made an affirmative mutter. Thorin managed to make a grateful little nod but continued to stare at the floor.

_What did he get himself into?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it is decided ^^ 
> 
> Here's the thing; I don't really have a proper plot besides the vague progress of the dragons growing up, I will probably have some chapters were the different dwarves are on babysitting duty and not just Bilbo with them. So if you want to you can suggest things? Situations that you would love to see and maybe pairings? This will mostly be Thorin/Bilbo and the dragons but I might consider adding other things :D and again, thank you for everyone who reads and likes this!!!


	4. Chapter 4

Thorin spent the night in the same room, too shocked to really move. The others had all left eventually, after offering their sincere condolences or asking if he was all right. Balin was the second to last to leave, watching how Dwalin sat beside the King in silent support. He had rolled his eyes and muttered something about everyone being melodramatic, but neither of the younger Dwarves had seen or heard that.

Dwalin stayed for most of the night, staring at the wall numbly without saying anything, just like the other. Thorin somehow took comfort from that, they had spent more than one night that way when something significant had happened before. 

Like the night they had nearly beaten up a young lad who had glanced after Dís one time too many – they loved the girl as if she was the little sister of both – until she had arrived, shouting at them that she would marry him no matter _what_ they said.

They had done it again after Dís announced that she was with child and the first instinct had been to find her now husband and shout at him (for which they had gotten smacked by a frying pan, realising that providing materials for her kitchen was a dangerous thing indeed.)

The last time they had had occasion to spend the night staring at nothing had been a few years back, for Dwalin’s sake. He had announced that he found the most beautiful and sweet Dwarf of all, and that he was in love. A few days later he had announced that said Dwarf was a fraud and that he had taken all of Dwalin’s money after a night of passionate love making, only leaving behind a mocking note. Thorin had sported a black eye when he sat with Dwalin (because laughing at the warrior’s misfortune would always earn a calm fist to the face, even if one happened to be the King) and neither had spoken as they tried to come to terms with it.

Now, after Gandalf had announced that Bilbo could safely keep the dragons - giving the Hobbit an excuse for what he probably would have done anyway - his friend’s presence hardly helped Thorin come to terms with anything, as comforting as it was. How was _anyone_ supposed to come to terms that what might be the spawn of such a great enemy as Smaug were to live in your freshly restored home?

In the early hours of the morning, Dwalin stood up and patted Thorin’s shoulder gently before leaving him alone in the room. Thorin didn’t mind, the little bit of solitude was even quite welcome. A few minutes after Dwalin had left, he let himself sag in his chair, pressed his hands to his eyes and let out a long frustrated groan.

Mahal, _why_?

Finally, Thorin heaved himself up and slowly scuffed towards the kitchens. There was only one of them really working right now, apart from the ones in the houses the members of the companies had chosen for themselves, and it used to be the private kitchen of the palace. The members of the company often took their meals there, or simply spent their free time sitting around the tables, as it was one of the few comfortable and undamaged rooms.

Despite it still being very early in the morning, the kitchen was occupied. Bombur was moving around some pans and ingredients, preparing the working space to cook a large breakfast for everyone who cared to join this day. He was glancing over his should ever so often, clearly nervous about something.

Thorin turned to look, and as expected, there was Bilbo sitting in front of the fireplace with Kíli and Ori by his side. A meat grinder stood on the table and a bowl with the remaining scraps of raw meat paste next to it; the breakfast for the dragons, from the looks of it. The dragons were wriggling on the Hobbit’s lap, not quite as wildly as they had the day before, but far too lively for Thorin’s taste nevertheless.

Ori had a blank notebook in one hand and a quill in the other. He watched the dragons intently, trying to write down the descriptions of each of them carefully. Kíli was leaning half over Bilbo’s shoulder, watching the dragons with a happy expression but not quite daring to touch them himself. Thorin growled his disapproval and walked over to Bombur.

Having heard it, the younger Dwarves quickly scooted away from the Hobbit, looking down sheepishly. Bilbo turned his head to look back over his shoulder.

“Ooh, look who has joined us today, little ones,” he said dryly. Thorin only scowled in his direction and stuffed some scones into his mouth, at which Bilbo simply raised his eyebrow. “Still so very upset, isn’t he?” he muttered under his breath as he scratched one of the dragons’ head.

Kíli and Ori shifted on their stools uncomfortably, as they were caught in between the hot and cool glares their King and soon-to-be Consort were giving each other. They glanced at each other until Kíli finally sighed and turned to face his uncle while the scribe allowed himself a smug little grin.

“We can get used to them, Uncle,” Kíli said with a smile, managing not to wince as Thorin’s wrathful eye moved from Bilbo to him. Somehow the way he was grinding the scones with his teeth was scary enough that it would have made any lesser Dwarf shake in fear, but Kíli was used to that by now and besides, he had a mildly miffed Hobbit and dragons on his side.

“They listen to what Bilbo says, and now Ori says that he wants to write down all of our observations. We even gave them names!” Thorin continued to glare as Bilbo lifted the dragons to show them to him while Kíli pointed at them. “That one’s Jet and the golden one’s Ral, and the one with the pale red scales is–“

“Dian, the youngest of the bunch,” Bilbo interjected and gave the boy a strange look.

“You have named them already?” Thorin gritted his teeth, making Bombur move as far away as he could without giving the impression of actually fleeing while the younger Dwarves shifted slightly towards and behind Bilbo. The Hobbit simply petted the dragons and shrugged.

“Of course, you can’t just not name them if you’re raising three little dragons. I don’t know if there are any naming traditions for them, but Kíli and Ori have assisted me with choosing names that should be agreeable to everyone.”

Thorin’s face darkened even more as he took a few steps towards Bilbo.

“You can’t just adopt _dragons_ ,” he growled.

“And why not? Gandalf said that we should be fine and safe.”

“Even if the dragons were… were _safe_ , they are still wild beasts who will not let themselves be kept as _pets_. It is a sign of dark forces to be able to tame a dragon! Eventually they will grow and you will not be able to feed and keep them without endangering everyone.”

Kíli and Ori were now trying to leave their seats discretely and join Bombur without pulling Thorin’s attention to them, but Bilbo only flared his nostrils and glared up at him.

“I will adopt them, and I will raise them to behave. Dragons are not that stupid, you can bring them up to understand what is right and what is wrong! They are not so different from a child. And I _will_ raise them as if they are my own, and there is _nothing_ you can do about that!”

Bilbo had not raised his voice during his little speech, and yet it made the Dwarves wince away guiltily as if he had. As no reply came, Bilbo huffed and stood up, holding the dragons securely to his chest, and then he strutted away, chin raised in righteous indignation.

Thorin watched him go and then released a breath, shoulders slumping in defeat, all anger gone. He glanced over at his nephew and his friend, who had stopped their attempt to flee and stared back at him.

“I have lost that debate, haven’t I?” he asked. There really was no way to persuade Bilbo when he was being more stubborn than how everyone else claimed of the dwarves. The two looked at each other and then up at Thorin and nodded.

“I will apologize later,” the King muttered and went to grab some more scones before his retreat. With the wizard’s support and now apparently with the first Dwarves agreeing, there was no other choice but to accept the dragons in his home.

*-*-*-*

Hours later, when the sun had already set outside of the mountain, Thorin finally decided to approach Bilbo again. He hadn’t seen the Hobbit all day, but when he went to get changed for the night and ready for bed he found the lights in their chambers still burning.

Bilbo was sitting in their bed, reading aloud from a book, and he didn’t frown when Thorin approached to join him.

“I am sorry for my behaviour,” the Dwarf muttered and was relieved when he got a smile and a reassurance that it was all right in return. “I am not… happy about your choices, but I will try and get used to you having the dragons.”

Bilbo nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to love them right away. And I am glad that you are willing to try.” He returned his attention to the book and Thorin smiled. This went better than he expected. As he reached out to pull back the covers and climb into bed, he froze.

Three pairs of shining eyes were watching his every move and he realized that the dragons were all curled up under the sheets besides Bilbo. He stared at them in shock and they watched him back.

“Bilbo…”

“Yes? Come into bed, it’ll get cold if you hold the sheets like this.”

“Why are the dragons in our bed?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They will sleep here and I am reading them a good night story. They are way too young to be left alone.“

“But you can’t just– Dragons in our bed!”

Bilbo turned his head to stare at Thorin, somehow making him wince back where a triple dragon stare had not made him move.

“They will stay.”

His tone indicated that this was another topic where any arguing would be futile, and so Thorin retreated and spent the second night in a row not sleeping in his royal chambers, but trying to make himself comfortable on the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments/kudos/hits, I appreciate them a lot!!! :')   
> I am not sure what will be happening in the next chapter yet, but leaps in the timeline and 'babysitting' chapters will be happening soon ^^


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